


in the eye of the beholder

by yaskiers



Series: long hair au [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geraskier, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, excessive use of the words The Big Scary Witcher, geralt has long hair, jaskier braiding geralts hair, part of an au!, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:13:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22511545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaskiers/pseuds/yaskiers
Summary: and there jaskier stood, the bard of a thousand ballads, his mouth hanging open, speechlessfuck.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: long hair au [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1635463
Comments: 22
Kudos: 344
Collections: long-haired geralt au





	in the eye of the beholder

**Author's Note:**

> hello my lovely readers!  
> so a few days ago I made an au (i will be posting all parts of it here under the tag "siwrites") which exploded on tumblr and twitter about geralt with long hair, and jaskier braiding it. since then I have been shown so much support for this au that I don't think I could stop writing it if i tried. 
> 
> to understand this writing to the fullest, heres the link to the original au: https://mculadyloki.tumblr.com/post/190559576260/okay-so-when-geralts-on-the-road-and-doesnt
> 
> and here is the link to the absolutely stunning fanart that inspired this piece: https://twitter.com/lesbianspritzee/status/1223461983116238848?s=20
> 
> enjoy!

jaskier had seen many beautiful sights in his life. young though he may have been, his travels had brought him far and wide. he had gazed upon the plains of temeria, climbed mountains and seen the horizon stretch so far he could barely comprehend. he had seen the forests of etolia, so ancient and tall. and yet through all of his travels, he thought, staring at the love of his meager life, his words failing him for possibly the first time in 20 years; he had never quite seen anything as beautiful as this. wow.

you see, when geralt had first grown out his hair, the braiding had been automatic, a reflex. he had grown up with sisters, and honestly, he was secure enough in his masculinity to admit that seeing geralt's nest of hair, tangled and matted, had made him physically cringe. so of course he had done it for him, because melitele knows that geralt would have been hopeless without him. again. and maybe it made him feel useful. maybe. (it did)

anyways, as time passed, it became more. he wasn’t quite sure what had changed, nor could he pinpoint the exact moment when it had, but he did know that eventually geralt automatically say at his feet while cleaning his sword, a piece or two of leather lying suspiciously on the ground next to him. geralt started leaning into his touch, keeping his head still while still managing to make the mechanical movements of sword cleaning (how he did that was a mystery to jaskier, but he was a bard, not a warrior). 

as their small routine continued, jaskier decided to challenge himself a bit. it wasn’t as if geralt’s hair stopped growing. 

and for a mutant who had had who-the-hell-knows done to his hair, geralt's hair was thick and grew almost annoyingly quickly.

so jaskier got creative. 

soon he was braiding multiple braids into one, smaller ones that started near geralt's ears (he had seen it on an elf before and had thought it looked pretty badass, if he did say so himself) and grew larger and thicker until there was a single plait falling over geralt's back. he twisted and turned and pulled at the witcher a hair until it was exactly what he had imagined to himself. and geralt, for all his bluster as the Big Scary Witcher (™) was surprisingly patient. 

why, if jaskier didn’t know better, he might even say that geralt enjoyed it.

now, the flowers had been an accident. sort of.

one day jaskier had woken up and thought to himself “would geralt let me braid flowers into his hair”. now, as the witcher’s bard, it was his sacred duty to annoy geralt as much as possible. so he had asked, half joking.

to his great surprise, geralt had rolled his eyes and grumbled a soft “fine”

to his great delight, geralt had helped him pick the flowers (dandelions, of course, after his name. geralt didn’t have to know that though) and then he had actually let him braid them in. 

honestly this was probably the one thing jaskier was the most proud of. in his (not so) humble opinion, this was a greater accomplishment than “Toss a Coin” by far. 

of course, geralt had to leave to do his “witchering” and so of course jaskier followed him. 

as they walked into the small town of nowhere in vicina, heads turned. jaskier stifled a laugh. of course heads would turn. in walked the Big Scary Witcher (™) and he had flowers braided into his hair. the fact that jaskier hadn’t even been slightly phased by that was a testament to the fact that he spent far too much time alone with geralt and a horse. 

geralt, on the other hand, was very adept at ignoring humans as roach ignored the swarms of insects that they sometimes encountered. swiftly and soundly. as a bard, jaskier could appreciate how poetic the parallel was. 

when they finally arrived at the tavern where the flyer said to go to, one of the dandelions had fallen from geralt's braid, and a little girl cake running after them. 

“uh- pardon me, sir w-witcher?” she squealed, likely intimidated by the hulking giant in front of her. jaskier definitely couldn’t blame her. she had shown more courage than dozens of grown men simply by approaching the witcher.

geralt slowly turned around and knelt down to look her in the eye. jaskier heart did a figure eight in his chest. 

“I believe you have something of mine, little one” he rumbled, holding a massive hand up for the child to deposit the flower into. she did, and smiled shyly at him. 

“ELISABETH!” a cry from a house down the street drew their attention. the little girl looked at geralt, then jaskier, then geralt again, turned on her tail and fled. 

the witcher stood, his hand curling around the dandelion. a part of jaskiers mind told him this would be a lovely metaphor for the way his witcher held his heart. jaskier told that part of jaskiers mind to shut up. 

“here” he said softly, his hand dropping the plant gently into jaskiers’. 

they entered the tavern together, and this time is was jaskier who held the flower.

they were quickly pointed in the direction of a dryad who had been causing mayhem on the outskirts of the town. a short ride away. 

they arrived, and geralt drew his sword.

he walked to where they had tracked the dryad, turned, and looked at jaskier. 

and here they were.

jaskier staring at geralt, at his witcher. with his long, gorgeous hair braided down his back in a simple yet elegant braid and dandelions woven into it. with his plain shirt and pants, his sword drawn. a scar on his face, and his golden eyes reflecting the sunset behind them. 

“I'll be right back, jas.”

geralt turned and left.

and there jaskier stood, the bard of a thousand ballads, his mouth hanging open, speechless.

he was in love.

fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked it! let me know what you thought in the comments because comments give me life. 
> 
> as always, feel free to yell at me on twitter and tumblr (@wlwmorgana) 
> 
> have an amazing day my loves


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